


breaking the rules

by myn_x



Series: tumblr requests [11]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Office, Bathroom Sex, FWB but lbr it's something more, M/M, Public Hand Jobs, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-18 00:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14842224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myn_x/pseuds/myn_x
Summary: A gentle touch against his leg made Iwaizumi sit up a little straighter; he fixed his attention not on the meeting but on the warm, steady presence beside him.Iwaizumi cast a glance to his right and found Daichi leaning slightly back with his arms folded, biceps bulging through the sleeves of his button-down shirt. He sat squarely, yielding no indication that he would move his leg from where it rested against Iwaizumi's.





	breaking the rules

**Author's Note:**

> ya cryptid is back on brand with more smut 
> 
> the more i wrote the more explicit this became and im not sorry 
> 
> no idea how meetings like these actually work yolo
> 
> for anon from [this prompt list](https://ohmykokuroo.tumblr.com/post/174439634226/send-a-number-or-2-and-a-pairing-and-ill-try), original post [here](https://ohmykokuroo.tumblr.com/post/174683310831/iwadai-20)

Sitting in a stuffy conference room for a monthly budget meeting was distinctly _not_ how Iwaizumi wanted to spend his Friday afternoon.

Weekly meetings he almost didn't mind, not compared to the monthlies; there were too many people, and it took a few hours at best to get through each department's budget. Not to mention it put him behind on his own work. Iwaizumi's group was swamped with drafts, and budget negotiation was pointless if they couldn't meet their deadlines.

_"...and we project that sales for next month will dip a little, therefore we should..."_

Iwaizumi loved working in publishing but lamented having to give up one Friday a month, especially when his department's totals hardly changed and weren't likely to suddenly take off, no matter how many stupid meetings his superiors held. Why the departments couldn't just have separate meetings with the execs to get their budgets approved was beyond Iwaizumi.

_"...so I'm expecting each of you to come up with and implement some kind of promotion to boost profits for the next quarter..."_

The drone of bored voices as Iwaizumi's colleagues spoke one after the other was putting him to sleep, and their numbers and figures swam out of focus. His slump deepened, his chin almost sliding off his palm. He shifted in his chair in a futile attempt to get more comfortable.

_"...last month's models were a bit off because of the holiday season, but we're hoping to make up for lost time with the new authors we signed, their work is promising..."_

A gentle touch against his leg made Iwaizumi sit up a little straighter; he fixed his attention not on the meeting but on the warm, steady presence beside him.

Iwaizumi cast a glance to his right and found Daichi leaning slightly back with his arms folded, biceps bulging through the sleeves of his button-down shirt. He sat squarely, yielding no indication that he would move his leg from where it rested against Iwaizumi's.

Disinterest was evident in the uneven set of Daichi's brows, but his eyes sparked with mischief as he met Iwaizumi's look and mouthed a question at him.

"Sleepy?"

With a long exhale, Iwaizumi sat even with Daichi and reached for his pad and pencil. When he slid the scribbled note over, Daichi snorted, remembering almost too late to mask it with a cough as he jotted down a response that would have had Iwaizumi shaking with laughter were they anywhere else. As it were, Iwaizumi forced his expression to something approaching neutral, throwing a half-hearted glare at Daichi, both his tormentor and eternal well of comfort.

Though they were employed by the same company, there normally were three floors between them; Iwaizumi headed the editing group for the non-fiction department, while Daichi worked his charm for marketing. So it wasn't unless there was a company-wide meeting like this that Iwaizumi and Daichi got to see each other during the week. It left Iwaizumi touch-starved and irritable, especially during budget meetings when Fridays were already such a busy pain in the ass.

Especially when it was only rarely that they actually got to sit next to each other, a small but much-desired reprieve. They had met at a meeting exactly like this, which had kicked off a friendship that had quickly grown too physical to just be friendship.

After a brief attempt to tune into the meeting -- were they seriously still five departments away from Iwaizumi's? -- Iwaizumi wrote something else to Daichi, this time about his budget plans. He was hoping that they would approve a recycled breakdown, and Daichi assured him with a wink that they would probably okay the paperwork without any challenge.

Iwaizumi sighed in relief, passing the time by sliding the notepad back and forth between Daichi and himself. They were somewhat secluded, with a table separating them from the rest of their colleagues. The flow of the meeting went on unbroken and unhurried, everyone else oblivious to their tiny act of rebellion.

It did help that Daichi gradually pressed closer and closer, until the lengths of their bodies were all but melded together. Iwaizumi was grateful for the physical contact, if not a little distracted by how his skin seemed to buzz everywhere they were touching, the current passing easily through both their clothing, sparking like flint when Daichi shifted against him.

Daichi did it again, knowing full well the effect it had on Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi clenched his fists against the table, jaw tensing. He didn't have to look to know Daichi was smirking behind the hand propped on his chin.

As the meeting went on, Daichi grew more daring, and little by little Iwaizumi lost his composure. He knew Daichi liked to test limits, but in a packed room like this, would he really go _that_ far? The hand beneath the table whispered _Yes_ against his thigh.

Iwaizumi felt his breathing grow shallower; it was impossible to fidget, lest he draw the attention of their colleagues, who were absorbed enough in the present exchange (or at least seemed like they were) that they glazed over how Daichi had practically wedged his way into Iwaizumi's lap. His cheeks were red, he knew -- he could _feel_ them burning -- but it was fucking hot in the conference room, what with poor AC and so many bodies packed inside.

 _Are numbers really that interesting?_ Iwaizumi wrote, his pen strokes unsteady. Sweat had gathered on his palms and the back of his neck.

Daichi was quick to reply with his free, all-business hand: _I prefer to study you._

Then, in his ear, so close that his breath tickled against his jawline, Daichi said, "Though I think a more hands-on approach would be... _beneficial_."

Daichi squeezed Iwaizumi's leg for emphasis, massaging the juncture where it met his waist. Swallowing thickly, Iwaizumi realized he really, really wanted what Daichi was offering, even in such an open, high-stakes environment. If meetings were like this every month...When had he started sweating again? Before or after Daichi slid his hand between his thighs, and began massaging electric circles into his skin with the pad of his thumb?

Two departments left before Iwaizumi, Daichi's touch shifted decidedly upward, the rough friction of Iwaizumi's pants not helping any, but helping too much all the same. Iwaizumi was already straining against his clothes, begging, almost, for Daichi to take him.

But Daichi liked to tease. A fact Iwaizumi had learned quickly.

Daichi's fingers played along the inseam of Iwaizumi's pants, the ghost of his touch enough to edge him but not quite satisfy, while Iwaizumi feigned attentiveness. Was it obvious? Was he giving himself away with how his jaw worked as he bit off a moan? It could be written off as nerves or illness, if only Daichi weren’t able to mouth words against his cheek.

"You're almost up. Want me to stop?"

Iwaizumi pulled against his shirt collar, rolling his shoulders to put a little space between him and Daichi. Then he trapped Daichi's hand with his thighs when Daichi began to ease back, and Daichi smirked again with an air of reckless confidence at the silent, truer answer.

A drop of sweat meandered down Iwaizumi's spine. He'd reacted instinctively, craving Daichi's touch but also needing Daichi to still his hand because Iwaizumi's turn to speak was imminent, but still Iwaizumi found himself relaxing and spreading his legs again.

Daichi slid his hand over Iwaizumi's leg again and took up stroking his inner thigh, touch heavy but gentle. His other hand drummed against the table, the echo of his fingers reaching under Iwaizumi’s skin.

Iwaizumi shifted in his seat again and tipped his head toward Daichi in a silent plea, but Daichi refused, mapping out the lines and curves of Iwaizumi's thigh rather than exploring more familiar, and marked, territory.

Iwaizumi stifled a groan. It was worse, somehow, than when Daichi tickled him.

The current group wrapped up their negotiations with the higher-ups, and the department ahead of Iwaizumi began laying out their budget framework. Iwaizumi wasn't hearing any of it, the sound of his colleagues' voices drowned out by the thunder of blood in his ears.

After what felt like an eternity, Iwaizumi was called. Daichi had melted Iwaizumi's thoughts into such a puddle that he had to clear his throat for a few moments before speaking, sifting through words like so much sand.

"If I may remain seated? I'll be brief," Iwaizumi said, affecting somewhat of a pained voice that had nothing really to do with Daichi's hand being so fucking close to his crotch.

The execs impatiently waved Iwaizumi on, and he began speaking. Strength returned to his voice as he continued, since Daichi had chosen mercy over mayhem, his hand still against Iwaizumi's leg except for a single twitch of support. Or maybe it was common sense, since Iwaizumi was in the spotlight.

But that didn't last. Once Iwaizumi got past the worst string of numbers, slowly, deliberately, _finally_ , Daichi traced the outline of his cock where it swelled against the fabric of his pants, playfully dragging a finger around his head.

If their higher-ups noticed the hitch in Iwaizumi's voice, they figured it something innocuous. Or they sat too far away to realize what was happening.

Iwaizumi spoke faster, hoping to finish quickly, but he fucked up one of the figures and one of them naturally pointed it out. Any other time he would've been only slightly put out by the heckling, but it grew more and more difficult to maintain his composure as Daichi grasped his length and moved his hand over him through the material of his pants.

Daichi’s relentlessness was borderline cruel. Iwaizumi spoke too loud at some points and through clenched teeth at others, hiding a gasp behind a cough, clearing his throat to mask a whimper, all while Daichi worked his hand over him under the table.

By the time they finally settled and approved Iwaizumi's budget, Iwaizumi was ready to explode. He somehow endured Daichi's stroking and teasing and petting with everyone else in the room oblivious. When at last they were released from the meeting, Iwaizumi was up and out of his chair so swiftly that it was a wonder he hadn't set the papers on the table to flight.

Daichi, all wolfish-grin, was right behind him.

The poor lighting in the bathroom on Daichi’s floor gave them the cover they needed. No one had come in yet, anyway.

They had ended up in their stall of choice, the one with the fucky lock that hardly anyone used. It was fucky, in part, because of them.

Daichi had his back to the door -- just in case -- with one of his legs between Iwaizumi’s and his tongue working at his neck, where he’d loosened his tie and pushed his collar down and away.

Iwaizumi wanted to come. His belt buckle was already loose, and his breath was ragged with Daichi’s patient onslaught. He’d brought Daichi in here with the intention of caging him in and telling him off, that he was irresponsible and reckless, but he was so fucking good with his hands that it drove him to irrationality. He couldn’t say no to Daichi if it saved his life. What were rules when it felt as good as it did to let Daichi’s hands wander like this?

"We -- we’re both on the clock, you know,” Iwaizumi muttered. He puffed his breath right beneath Daichi’s ear, which earned him a nip on his own earlobe.

"Yeah? It doesn't excite you? That we're getting paid to do _this_ \--" Daichi mouthed at Iwaizumi’s neck while he tugged at his shirt until it came untucked from his pants, "--and _this_?"

He slid one hand up Iwaizumi’s back to steady him while the other slipped beneath his underwear, cupping Iwaizumi’s ass and squeezing, guiding him into a rut where he straddled Daichi’s thigh.

The friction against his cock knocked the wind out of Iwaizumi. He fell into Daichi’s rhythm easily, biting into Daichi’s shoulder to stifle a moan before pulling off to reply.  

“Freak. Didn’t peg you for an exhibitionist.” Iwaizumi smiled into the kisses he pressed to Daichi’s jaw, savoring the chafe of shadow against his lips, and the feel of Daichi’s thigh between his legs.

Daichi laughed, low and rough. "I thought you were enjoying it."

"I was. I am." Iwaizumi took in a shaky breath and tried to focus as he twitched his hips forward, wanting to get some kind of reaction out of Daichi. He was far too at ease, and there were still too many clothes in the way. “But--”

“But?” Daichi raised a brow.

“It’s your fault we were stuck in there longer than we needed to be.”

The hand on Iwaizumi’s ass disappeared, and Iwaizumi was about to complain at the loss when Daichi palmed his crotch instead. “Ah, you should have seen your face. Your voice is so cute when it cracks.”

“ _They could have noticed_ ,” Iwaizumi hissed. But he jerked under Daichi’s touch, needing more. _Now_.

“What of it?”

Iwaizumi couldn’t keep down his moan -- the simple carelessness of Daichi’s tone, together with the thought of someone watching Daichi take him apart made his blood thrum hot and fast; it brought him even closer. He untwined his hands from where he’d thrown them around Daichi’s shoulders and shakily nudged his pants down, just enough to free his dick from his damp, too tight underwear and wrap Daichi’s hand around its hard length, keeping his fingers wrapped around Daichi over himself.

But it was easy to let Daichi take control of the rise and fall of his hand; he favored the slow, long pulls that had Iwaizumi clinging to him for support. Every now and then he rolled his thumb over the glistening, beaded tip.

Daichi caught Iwaizumi’s gasp with a kiss, squeezing as he pulled his hand over Iwaizumi’s cock with hurried strokes, his patience burned away by something more carnal.

Iwaizumi loosened his hold over Daichi’s hand, content with his pressure and pace, and pulled back to touch their foreheads together, to keep their gazes locked. Daichi’s mouth looked as wet and swollen as his felt, and their breath mingled in the close heat of the stall. It took a few moments of fumbling at Daichi’s waist (fuck belts, honestly) before his dick bobbed forward, stiff and flushed and heavy in Iwaizumi’s hand.

With a wicked glint in his eye, Daichi spat down. Iwaizumi spread it over Daichi’s cock with his thumb before he realized what Daichi wanted. No sooner than Iwaizumi let go did Daichi have them both in the same hand, grip tight over their pulsing cocks.

The silky heat of their skin sliding together under Daichi’s calloused touch made Iwaizumi’s head spin, a moan trailing off his lips just as the bathroom door opened.

Iwaizumi stilled with alarm, but Daichi remained unfazed. As if spurred on by the presence of unknowing strangers, he picked up the pace, twisting his hand over them to pull Iwaizumi’s attention back to him. It worked, and it felt so good that Iwaizumi almost couldn’t bear it. Instead of jumping away, he fisted his hands in Daichi’s shirt.

More traffic poured in, accompanied by boisterous conversation; it _had_ been long enough that everyone should have dispersed to their own floors. But Daichi never took his eyes off Iwaizumi.

Then came rap at their stall door, a voice not inches from where they stood shaking in each other’s arms. “Oy! You finished in there?”

Wordlessly, Daichi gave Iwaizumi his thumb to suck on, his other hand still wrapped around them both, stroking over their hot flesh erratically.

Iwaizumi nearly bit off Daichi’s thumb and smushed an entire hand over Daichi’s mouth, both of them straining to keep the other quiet and still, save for the furious glide of Daichi’s hand, as they spilled over and onto each other.

Daichi tipped his head back, and Iwaizumi collapsed against his chest, nosing into Daichi’s neck. Iwaizumi slowly uncurled his fingers from Daichi’s now wrinkled shirt.

“Be out in a minute,” Daichi said gruffly. His touch was more gentle as he rubbed circles into the small of Iwaizumi’s back.

Footsteps trailed away, and Iwaizumi breathed freely again.

Neither made a move to pull away from the other in the comedown, neither wanting the moment to end. But work was waiting, so Iwaizumi reluctantly untangled himself from Daichi and they both straightened up as much as they could.

Daichi flushed far too much tissue down the toilet at once and they watched as the water rose and rose and rose until it finally threatened to tumble over.

Iwaizumi tsked but couldn’t find it in himself to be _that_ upset, even when Daichi only shrugged, small smile playing on his still reddened, very kissable lips.

 _Damn it all to hell_ , Iwaizumi thought.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://fucklev.tumblr.com) || [twitter](https://twitter.com/lovedeluxxxe)


End file.
